Blog

One-A-Day: It Ain't Just For Vitamins!

2013-04-27T18:37:11Z

Complaining is easy.

Changing things is hard

Or at least, that's what we tell ourselves. We look around at the very big problems in our very big world and ask, "What can one person do?"

Maybe nothing... or maybe everything.

Today, I did something I always say I'm going to do. No, not exercise... it wasn't that extreme!

But while out for a walk, I stopped and picked up a piece of garbage. And as I continued strolling along, I picked up another... and then another.

While I'm not generally grateful to folks who litter, I was pleased to find a plastic shopping back caught in the branches of a bush. Plucking it free gave me something in which to stash my collection... and allowed me to add to it.

I won't say that one man's trash is another man's treasure, because it's not like karma rewarded my efforts by leading me to a winning lottery ticket someone had discarded.

But I did find myself feeling as if I'd made a difference.

A teeny, tiny difference to be sure... but it was a small step... and one I'm hoping might lead to others joining my trashy parade.

Imagine if all of us picked up one piece of trash a day.

Just one.

Every single one of us, every single day.

Sure, we'd still be outnumbered -- and outlittered -- by folks who treat the planet like their own personal dumping ground, but it'd be a start.

And that's gotta be worth something... right?

Calling All Haters!

2012-12-23T20:27:59Z

Miss Betty Bowers, aka America's Best Christian, advises the "ham-fisted prairie yokels with... conspicuous unfamiliarity with hair conditioner” of Westboro Baptist Church on the proper way to hate. This, folks, is biting, not-quite-safe-for-work satire at its best. Enjoy!

When In Doubt… Blame Canada!

2012-12-23T17:28:41Z

It’s safe to say that NRA president Wayne LaPierre’s recent press conference didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. But really, he has only himself to blame. Had he turned to television, the very box on which he heaped so much scorn, he easily could have avoided becoming the nation’s punching bag. How? By looking to these television figures for guidance...

1) Helen Lovejoy, The Simpsons

The wife of Springfield’s favorite holy man, Reverend Lovejoy, Helen is perhaps best known for breaking into tears and declaring, “Won’t somebody please think of the children?” Unfortunately, LaPierre was so busy thinking about protecting firearms that he failed to take her advice. As a result, he wound up suggesting that the ideal solution to the problem would be to send kids into schools that, with his organization’s help, would become armed camps. Not exactly what most parents consider an ideal situation.

2) Data, Star Trek: The Next Generation

Like failed presidential candidate Mitt Romney before him, LaPierre made the crucial error of failing to activate the emotion chip that would have allowed him to have the appropriate — i.e., human — response to a national tragedy.

3) The Parents of South Park

In looking to place blame on anything but guns, LaPierre listed a host of things which he believed had triggered, for lack of a better word, the attack. Violent video games? Check. Movies and television? Check. Hurricane Sandy? Er… check. But he forgot to point the finger at the one place we long ago learned, courtesy of the brilliant minds behind South Park, that all bad things come from: Canada!

4) Sue Sylvester, Glee

Mr. LaPierre had nearly a week to prepare his remarks, which means there was plenty of time to run that speech up the flag pole and maybe see how a focus group or two responded. If what you're about to say in the real world sounds as ridiculously offensive to the average listener as something everyone's favorite fictional acerbic cheerleading coach might say? Go back to the drawing board.

5) Rachel Maddow, The Rachel Maddow Show

Come on, dude! Maddow is in what you would most definitely consider the enemy camp, and she straight-up warned you what the reaction would be if you stood before the country and said... well, exactly what you said! To borrow a metaphore you most certainly would approve of, forewarned is forearmed! And it doesn't come much more forewarned than what Maddow said during her MSNBC show on the night before your press conference:

"If what you hear at [Friday's NRA press conference] is an NRA leader lamenting violent video games or calling for us to study mental health issues in this country, be aware that while those may be things that we should do... they are also ways for the NRA to just avoid talking about guns. If the NRA is prepared to make meaningful contributions to make sure that elementary school children are not massacred again in our country in their classrooms, they will need to talk about guns. That's where they are powerful. They will need to talk about the work they do to keep gun laws the way they are. If they do not talk about guns tomorrow, then this news conference... is a sideshow. It is a distraction from a policy debate that we needed to start having many, many years ago."

HOMESICK: A Preview

2012-12-02T19:48:14Z

In this preview of the work in progress Homesick, we join high schooler Erica Allen, whose fellow students are about to tell her something very disturbing about the home her family recently moved into...

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Wait, whose house is haunted?” asked Erica, looking up from the lunch she’d been half-heartedly picking at while allowing her mind to drift away from the conversation and toward thoughts of defying both the calorie gods and her fellow cheerleaders by walking straight up to the counter and exchanging her limp-leafed salad for a large order of fries. Maybe even two.

“Yours!” said Susie. “God, were you not even listening?”

“Haunted?” repeated Erica. “My house. Haunted. And you’re only now getting around to mentioning this?”

“Puh-lease,” interjected Traci Lerner, giving Susie a withering look before turning her attention back to Erica. “Nobody in the history of ever said word one about there being a ghost or a poltergeist whatever in that house.”

Despite the absurdity of the conversation, let alone the notion, Erica took comfort in Traci’s words. “I guess that’s kind of a relief,” she admitted, trying to laugh it off even as she acknowledged that a haunting might explain what she’d been feeling since moving in. “Not that I believe in that kind of stuff, but… ”

Traci interrupted. “Susie is the worst when it comes to expressing herself. She’s always saying something that isn’t what she really means. She spent years saying ‘for all intensive purposes’ instead of ‘for all intents and purposes.’ It’s going to be a major problem for her when it comes time to take the SAT’s.”

“So what did she mean to say?” asked Erica, wishing she was the kind of person who could leave the unspoken question unanswered and instead focus on Susie’s academic shortcomings.

“It’s no biggie,” insisted Traci, reaching across the table to take a radish that had seen better days off Erica’s salad. “There’s some weird-ass story about the family that used to live in your house, like, ages ago. Like, back in the 1970’s or something.”

Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask don’t… “What kind of story?” Erica asked a little too intensely.

“The kind that starts with a boy meeting a girl and ends in total tragedy,” exclaimed Susie in an obvious attempt to regain the conversational spotlight. “And death. So yeah, the house may or may not be haunted, but people totally died there.”

Something Truly Scary For Halloween: Change

2012-10-29T19:09:49Z

I know this blog is called How Rude Are You. But what if, in the come-as-you-aren’t spirit of Halloween, we turned it on its head?

What if, at least for that one spooktacular day, we thought of it instead as How Polite Can You Be?

Maybe Casper can be our unofficial spooksperson?

What do I mean by that? I mean… on Oct. 31, rather than curse out the driver who cuts you off, exhale and be glad you didn’t have an accident. Rather than ignore the cashier who rings up your groceries, say, “Hi, how’s your day?” Rather than glare at the pedestrian who bumps into you as if you’re demanding an apology, apologize first.

Be nice.

It feels good.

I’m not naïve enough to think that, if we try this for a day, we’ll end up deciding to be kinder, gentler people every day. (This blog is hardly as widely read as, say, TMZ, and understandably so. When have we ever scored pictures of a buck-naked royal or a“Real Housewife” having a meltdown?) But there’s a slim chance that it could make a few of us more polite, more often, right? And isn’t that a less frightening prospect on this, the scariest of all days, than the alternative?

If none of us change for the better, we could all just keep getting worse.

One Nation, Easily Divided

2012-10-14T16:16:03Z

I'm beginning to think that perhaps we should change the name of our country, as it's increasingly difficult to find anything that actually unites us as individuals let alone as a nation. And in part, it seems to be because there are fewer and fewer truths which we hold self-evident.

We see the impact of global warming and yet refuse to take the necessary actions to curtail it. We will pass laws saying you can't smoke in restaurants because it's bad for the health of other patrons, yet most communities refuse to take planet-healing actions such as outlawing gas-powered leafblowers because God forbid the people we hire to care for our lawns be forced to use a rake.

We ask not what we can do for our country, but what our country can do for us. We're less inclined to rise up and rally around the rights of our fellow citizens than we are to gather our forces in opposition. Whether it is a Muslim mosque, same-sex marriage or abortion, we abide by the rule that the squeaky wheel gets the grease, giving far more attention to those who protest something than those who support it.

We thrive not on discussion and debate, but on conflict and discord. When President Obama comes off as "professorial" during a debate, we say he lost, while Vice President Biden is seen as "winning" when he is dismissive of and rude toward his opponent.

In the wake of mass shootings, we wring our hands and point fingers at the family, friends, schools and hospitals which failed to stop the madman's spree but refuse to address the loopholes which allowed him to purchase semi-automatic firearms no ordinary citizen should have access to.

Even the basic tenant that "we hold these truths to be self evident" can only be agreed upon to the extent that your pursuit of happiness doesn't interfere with mine and vice versa.

It's almost enough to make one think the grand social experiment that we've been since founding this nation on the notion of all men being created equal is, as they'd say on Twitter, an epic fail.

Deathwatch

2012-07-23T17:27:49Z

Watching BIG BROTHER’s Willie Hantz go from stewing to simmering to boiling over made for the kind of television that producers kill for. But with reality shows clearly casting increasingly volatile people and more shows doing live broadcasts, it seems only a matter of time before the wrong button is pushed on the wrong person and it results in a violent confrontation that leaves someone dead.

As America watches it all unfold.

Live.

Producers tell us they take every precaution. They do psychological screenings and background checks… and yet somehow, fairly regularly, a person with a criminal record winds up competing for their chance to be the next AMERICAN IDOL, or a person with obvious anger issues is locked into a house with 14 other people who are competing for a prize but might wind up fighting for their lives.

Like many other things in life, it seems inevitable. Lessen regulations on banks and an occupation which rewards risk takers will see a rise in rules being broken. Make it possible for anyone to get their hands on more weapons than any human being could possibly need, and tragedy will ensue. Continue to use volatile people in pressure-cooker situations as entertainment and something bad will happen.

It’s only a matter of time.

State Of (Dis)Grace

2012-07-06T17:16:37Z

I'm beginning to think that maybe the folks over at Gawker were right in naming Arizona “the worst state in the country”... and that's coming from somebody who lives in the much-maligned New Jersey! But a couple of stories which, taken in conjunction, seem to back up the site’s theory caught my eye over the past day or two. Allow me to share them.

First, there’s the tawdry tale of Valerie Marie Topete. According to an Associated Press story picked up by Gawker, Ms. Topete, while hanging in a pizza joint, filled her toddler’s sippy cup with beer and let him drink from it. Why? Well… because the little boy kept reaching for the pitcher of beer sitting on the table. And if there’s one thing even people like me who have no children know, it's that whenever a child wants something, it should be given to them.

But we probably shouldn't, you know, tarnish the entire state because one mom proved herself worthy of our scorn.

However, the state’s border patrol agents didn’t exactly help elevate anyone’s opinion of Arizona when they detailed 96-year-old Raul Castro… who happens to have been the state’s former governor as well as a former US ambassador. Apparently, the trace radiation he gave off as a result of a medical procedure caused the agents to believe that Castro was a threat... even after they were told not only of his condition but that he was the former governor.

Finally, there is the disgraceful “papers, please” law which current Arizona Governor Jan Brewer is plowing full-steam ahead with. Last week, she said police agencies would begin “practicing what the U.S. Supreme Court… upheld,” clearly not understanding that she is, in essence, playing directly into the hands of the bill’s opponents. Why? Because the court, in essence, said that they could not make a decision regarding the law until it had been implimented, basically assuring that more time (and money) would be spent in what many believe to be a pointless exercise that will lead to the inevitable overturning of the law.

All things considered, we’ll opt to remaing Arizona-free for the time being... especially since, having just returned from the beach, we’re freshly tanned and might wind up being mistaken for the people Brewer and her ilk are so hellbent on driving out of the state.

Picture This

2012-07-05T20:20:10Z

In an obscenity-strewn Facebook post, Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee ranted at and about fans who ask to have their pictures taken with him. “Nobody put me where I am but me!” he writes. “They may have helped inspire me with their love for what I do, but I put myself right here where I want to be with a lot of hard work.”

Which is, of course, complete and total crap.

There are a lot of people out there who work their butts off and have not had the good fortune to be in the right place at the right time and capture the attention of millions of adoring fans as he has. And what keeps him squarely in the limelight is the fans who pay for concert tickets, CD’s, shirts and all of the other things upon which his fortune was built.

Celebrity comes at a price... and if one isn't willing to pay it, than perhaps one should consider another field. Despite what any celebrity might think, without fans they are -- in fact -- nothing. Or, if not nothing, then the waiters who dream of making it big one day; The army of would-be celebs who spend their days as "slashers" (as in actress/hostess or singer/barback).

Notice that when he and his Crue have something to sell, they’re happy to pose for pics on red carpets around the world or pose for magazine covers.

Wonder how Tommy Lee will feel the day that so few people care about him or his music that he’s reduced to doing Celebrity Apprentice?

What Really Matters

2012-06-20T22:52:15Z

If you're not a fan of the soap GENERAL HOSPITAL, then the names Jason, Sam and Liz -- when used in conjunction with one another -- probably don't mean all that much to you. (After all, the days when GH's Luke and Laura or ALL MY CHILDREN's Erica were household names are, sadly, long gone).

But for those who follow the escapades of the residents of Port Charles, New York -- where guns are handed out at the city limits and a stranger is just someone you haven't yet slept with -- the names Jason, Sam and Liz are extremely well known. And in certain circles, mentioning Jason's name in connection with the wrong lady could get you in a whole lotta trouble.

Earlier this evening, in my role as executive editor and Tweetmaster General of Soaps In Depth magazine, I found myself engaging with fans who'd gotten an early glimpse of our next cover, which happens to feature Jason and Liz (his ex-lover). For those hoping the pair will reunite, this was good news. For those who wants Jason to reunite with his currently-estranged spouse Sam, news of this cover was greeted about as joyously as would be word that they'd be dipped in honey at dawn and staked beside an active beehive.

This happens periodically. Soap fans are a passioante bunch. And sometimes, for reasons quite inexplicable, certain triangles inspire a level of loyalty that is practically unheard of amongst primetime viewers. GH's Liz and Jason. GH's Jason and Sam. DAYS OF OUR LIVES' EJ and Sami or Sami and Lucas. THE YOUNG & THE RESTLESS' Phyllis and Nick or Nick and Sharon. Occasionally, hings can get mighty heated among the more passioante of their followers... and when I say "heated", I'm using a polite word for nasty. Names are called, conspiracy theories are spun, accusations are hurled.

Good times.

Tonight, I spent an hour or more dealing with fervent fans of Jason and Sam who weren't happy about our latest cover. Again, this is rather common. Soap fans are, as I said, extremely devoted to their favorite pairs and, as these people come into their homes five days a week, attachments are formed.

After sending so many tweets to so many followers that I wound up in what's called "Twitter jail" (meaning the system will not allow you to continue interacting and forces you to take a break), I decided to head home.

And that's when it happened.

Barreling down the road came a silver SUV going incredibly fast when suddenly, the vehicle left the road and jumped onto the sidewalk on a collision course with me. With what I have no doubt was a horrifyingly unmanly shriek, I literally threw myself out of its path and onto a patch of grass as the SUV plowed down the sidewalk exactly where I'd been standing only seconds before. I was now sprawled out on the grass, hyperventillating and watching in shock as the driver corrected course and, without even slowing down, continued along his way.

Again, I was sprawled out on the grass. For all the driver -- who'd been texting best as I could tell as they approached -- knew, I was dead. But he just drove off.

For five minutes or so, I couldn't stand up. My knees were weak and I thought I might vomit. I can honestly say I don't think I've ever come so close to death.

And that's when it hit me.

Soaps matter. A lot. For fans, they are an escape. Many people say they live for their soaps. For me, the editor of a magazine that covers the genre, they are a living, so they matter a whole hell of a lot.

But as I sat there in the grass, trying to catch my breath, my mind racing, it wasn't Jason or Sam or Elizabeth or Phyllis or Nick or any other character I was thinking about. It was how glad I was that Charlie, the co-worker who often walks home with me, wasn't by my side. It was the fact that I was glad not to have been plowed down two days before my upcoming vacation. It was, "Geez, I'm amazed I didn't piss myself."

All of which is to say this: It's good to be passionate about movies and television and games and books. To be invested in the hours we wile away with various forms of fiction. But if that car had hit me and the last hours of my life had been spent trying to talk people out of being upset about the romantic entanglements of fictional characters, that would have been a tragedy. Not only for me, but for the people who allowed themselves to get so angry about characters on a television show that they were willing to disrespect other human beings -- whether it was other fans, me, the actors who portray the characters or the writers who put words into their mouths.

Soaps matter.

They matter to a lot of people in a lot of different ways. But they shouldn't matter more than being respectful to one another. And they shouldn't matter to the point where our blood pressure rises and we hide behind anonymous message board profiles just to take cheap shots at others because they don't see things the way we do. There's so much negativity in the world. Wars, poverty, political campaigns... soaps are designed to be an escape from all of that. They're the daily equilvalent of saying, "Calgon, take me away!"

I'm fairly certain that if you find yourself sprawled in the grass along the side of the road having been nearly run down by a speeding SUV, your last thoughts will not be about Jason, Sam or Liz. At least -- as much as I love my soaps -- I sincerely hope not.